Scenes Of A Domestic Nature
by Potrix
Summary: Cute and fluffy short stories revolving around the four Holmes siblings. (Same universe as 'New Beginnings' and 'Falling in Love')
1. Baby Girl

**A/N:** It seems that I just can't stop writing things for this particular universe.

_'Scenes Of A Domestic Nature'_ goes with my stories _'New Beginnings'_ and _'Falling In Love'_. (I recommend reading at least 'New Beginnings', or else you won't have any idea who the characters are.) It's a collection of random, unconnected and mostly fluffy pieces revolving around the four Holmes siblings. There's no real order or anything and it won't be updated regularly, just whenever I have a new idea. Or, you know, _you_ guys could give me some ideas/prompts, if you wanted to. That'd be cool.

Anyway, please enjoy!

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**Chapter Summary:** The youngest Holmes is born.

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**Warnings:** nothing particular

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**Baby Girl**

"Now Sherlock, please do remember to be quiet when we go in to see Daddy and the baby. They are both very exhausted from the birth."

"I know, Myc'ooft."

Mycroft and Ford shared a knowing glance.

"All right, then." Ford sighed, opening the door to the hospital room for his little brother.

Sherlock's promise was forgotten the instant he spotted his Daddy and he lunged forward with a delighted squeak, landing on the bed next to his father and burying his curly head in the man's hospital gown.

The baby sniffled in its crib, balled two tiny fists and began to wail.

"Well done, Sherlock!" Mycroft scoffed, bending over the little bed to have a better view of his new, very loud sibling.

"It's all right, love. Why don't you pick her up and say hello? I bet she'd love that." Calvin smiled from his half seated position on the bed, shifting to pull Sherlock into his lap.

With carefully calculated precision, Mycroft slipped one hand under the baby's head for support and lifted her up, placing her against his shoulder.

"Girl?"

"A girl indeed, Sherlock. Your baby sister." Calvin explained to his youngest son, who was staring up at him with huge, curious eyes.

"Why not a boy?"

"Sometimes babies are boys, sometimes they are girls, Sherlock." Mycroft said absently, gently rocking the precious bundle in his arms.

"Loud." the younger boy grimaced, clasping his hands over his ears.

"They tend to be like that when woken up by annoying older brothers!" Ford grinned smugly, but faltered at the stern look Calvin shot him.

"Give her to me!" Sherlock demanded and stretched his arms out towards Mycroft, making grabbing motions for the child.

"Absolutely not! You are certain to drop her!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Myc'oooooft!"

"Do stop your whining, Sherlock. It is pointless." the eldest sibling said sternly, stroking a finger over the baby's nose, smiling fondly when she wrinkled it.

"Boys, please!" Calvin interrupted their squabble, placing a calming hand on a pouting Sherlock's back. "Mycroft, bring your sister over here and place her on the bed so Sherlock can have a proper look."

Reluctantly, Mycroft walked over to the bed and carefully placed the little girl on one of the pillows.

Sherlock immediately scooted over, staring down at his new sister, who was still snuffling, uttering a single, choked sob every now and again.

"What's her name?" Ford piped up from where he had seated himself on the foot of the bed. He shared a look with Mycroft, who rolled his eyes and shrugged - judging from their names, the baby wasn't going to get around Aldéric's weird obsession with naming his children after old, French relatives.

"Cerise." Calvin smiled, gently brushing a finger over the girl's cheek. "Cerise Elienor Holmes."

"That's terrible." Ford blurted out and Mycroft had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

Calvin shrugged with one shoulder, chuckling softly. "You can give her a nickname, boys."

"Ceri." Mycroft suggested, causing both Ford and Sherlock to vehemently shake their heads.

"Riri." Ford said, then huffed at his own suggestion.

"Ellie!" little Sherlock said, no, _decided_ with a satisfied grin. "Her name is Ellie." he repeated, holding a hand out to the little girl.

Ellie, intrigued, stopped her squirming and stretched out two short, uncoordinated arms, trying to catch the strange new thing floating around above her head.

"She likes it!" Sherlock beamed, laying down beside the girl and protectively curling his own body around the baby. Ellie uttered an approving string of noises and curled one tiny hand around one of her brother's fingers, bringing it to her mouth to suck on it.

"She's a baby, she doesn't like or dislike anything except for maybe food and sleep." Ford pointed out. Sherlock scowled and poked out his tongue before turning back to Ellie and rubbing his nose through her soft, auburn hair.

"Ellie." he repeated and the baby gurgled around his finger as if to say; _'Yes, that's my name.' _

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**A/N:** The ages of the siblings in this chapter; Mycroft (11), Ford (10) and Sherlock (short of 4). Daddy Calvin is 26.


	2. Alphas and Omegas

**A/N:** The weather has no business being this mild in bloody December! So I wrote fluffy times in the cold to appease my need for snow and general winter things. Mycroft is around five-ish in the first part and the rest, well, pretty self-explanatory. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Summary:** Mycroft takes a bittersweet trip down memory lane. Also; ducks.

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**Warnings:** none

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**Alphas and Omegas**

Mycroft shifted in his father's arms, giggling when Aldéric's stubble scratched his cheek, and nuzzled his face into the man's neck to warm up his frozen nose.

"Tu as froid?" Aldéric asked, pulling his coat tighter around the little boy perched on his hip. Mycroft hummed contentedly and Aldéric smiled, pressing a kiss to his son's auburn head.

The boy treasured these moments, the walks from his piano tutor's flat through the park back to the mansion being the only half hour he had his father all to himself - no annoying, crying little brother, no business calls, no paperwork. _Seulement Papa et Myco._ Mycroft sighed happily and snuggled even closer to his father, one small hand playing with the thick, dark curls on the back of the man's head, pulling them straight and watching with great delight how they immediately sprang back into their original position.

"Papa, do we have time to play?" Mycroft asked eagerly once they approached the old stone bridge, the usual spot for their favourite game, and began to bounce up and down with wide, pleading eyes.

Aldéric made a show of having to think very hard about the request - no matter that they played every time - until Mycroft practically vibrated with pent up excitement and only then did he nod and chuckle at his son's enthusiastic squeak. The Alpha carefully lifted the boy up and placed him on his shoulders, taking a firm hold of his ankles to steady the giddy child.

"Tell me about him." Aldéric said after a moment of consideration, nodding at a young man on one of the park benches, talking agitatedly into his phone.

Mycroft circled his arms around his father's neck and rested his chin on the man's head, sucking in his lower lip as he thought. "He is nervous." he announced eventually, confidently.

"Very good. How can you tell?"

"He's tapping his foot and messing with his tie."

"And why is he nervous?"

"I-..." the boy began, then scrunched up his face in concentration, narrowing his eyes at their 'target'. "I think he is fighting with his girlfriend."

"Reasons for that assumption?"

"He has a ring, that means he has a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. And he looks at the ring all the time and he looks scared when he does it."

Aldéric smiled and craned his neck to let his son see the proud expression on his face. "He is afraid his wife is going to leave him. He works long hours and she feels neglected and abandoned, especially after they just had a baby, a girl, and she has to care for the little one all by herself."

That confused the boy and he wriggled until his father helped him down and settled him on his hip and under the warm coat again. "But he has to work a lot so they have money and can buy nice things for the baby, right?"

"Exactly." Aldéric nodded, brushing a gentle kiss over Mycroft's temple. "It is his responsibility, his duty to financially provide for his family, as it is his wife's purpose to care for their little girl."

"Is the wife an Omega, like Daddy? Because the books say that Omegas stay at home with the babies and the children and that Alphas go out to study and become smart and work and earn loads of money."

"Precisely. Everyone has their place in society, Mycroft." Aldéric explained as they continued walking, chuckling fondly at his son's attempts at catching one of the heavy, slowly descending snowflakes on his tongue. "One day, you will have a family of your own, an Omega and a little boy or a little girl, and it will be up to you to provide for them-"

"Because I'm an Alpha and I'm smart!" Mycroft butted in, excited, staring up at his father for confirmation. "Alphas fall in love with Omegas. Alphas work 'cause they're clever and Omegas stay at home 'cause-" he paused, pondering for a moment, "-'cause that's how things just are."

Aldéric didn't reply, but caught one of the white, icy flakes on his gloved finger and placed it on a giggling Mycroft's nose before following it with a kiss.

His son would be all right.

* * *

"Daddy! _Daddy!_ Look, ducks! Aren't they cold?"

Mycroft snapped out of his reverie and shook himself, unconsciously tightening his fingers around his son's small hand, tugging him softly but insistently away from the slippery rail. "Do be careful, Reuben." he tutted, peering over the edge of the old stone bridge and down into the half-frozen Thames, watching two ducks expertly navigate around the floes.

"I am not a baby!" Reuben whined sulkily, not helping his point very much, but let Mycroft scoot him up and cuddle him close for a moment before he was placed on his usual spot against his father's hip, kicking his stubby legs and swinging his fists in obvious glee about their outing. "They're not even wearing any hats, daddy, _look!_ Do they have ears? I can't see any ears." he frowned, the tiny red face peeking out between scarf and woolly hat pulled into a grimace.

"Their physiology differs from ours, they are better adapted to cold temperatures." Mycroft said absently, fishing in his coat pocket for a tissue to clean the four-year-old's runny nose while trying to prevent him from pulling off his gloves and wriggling down to go and further investigate the apparently fascinating ducks.

"Myc, dear lord. Use words he understands." Greg snorted, approaching with Misha on his shoulders and four steaming cups balanced in his hands. Mycroft scowled at his husband's multitasking abilities, causing the older Alpha to chuckle and shoot him a downright diabolic grin. "Practice, love." the DI said innocently and placed a quick kiss on the redhead's lips.

"Papa, where are the ducks' ears?" Reuben demanded, pushing his hand between the two kissing men to get their attention.

Greg blinked at his son a few times before looking up at Mycroft. "I've been gone for five minutes and you're having a discussion about duck ears? What the fu-"

_"Gregory!"_ Mycroft hissed, raising a warning eyebrow. Too late, as it turned out.

"Papa almost said a bad word!" Misha crooned, sharing a knowing smirk with his twin brother.

Mycroft sighed, failing to keep a straight face. "Marvellous. You are just terrible, you do realise that, don't you?"

Greg shrugged, winding an arm around his husband to pull him closer. "You love me for it." he purred, moving in for another kiss.

"Mm, I really do. God help me." Mycroft teased, laughing against the older man's mouth and at his sons' annoyed huffs and grunts.

His perfect, happy, Beta sons. His perfect, working, Alpha husband.

They were more than all right.

They were simply _perfect._

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**A/N:** Well, for those of you reading my other stories in this universe, here it is; Aldéric Holmes' first appearance. What did you think? I decided not to give him a completely evil and twisted character, because I thought making him more human will probably make his later behaviour (as hinted at in 'New Beginnings') much more hurtful and sad. I'm a terrible person. Happy Christmas!

As for the French: _Tu as froid? _- You're cold?** /** _Seulement Papa et Myco._ - Just Papa and Myco.


	3. Thunderstorms and Nightmares

**A/N: **So sorry about the ending. Ages; Mycroft is 14, Ford is 13, Sherlock is 7 and Ellie is 3.

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**Chapter Summary:** The four of us against the rest of the world. Forever.

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**Warnings: **mentioned future character death

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**Thunderstorms and Nightmares**

Sherlock's breathing was coming in rapid, painful gasps. He clutched his covers tightly around his shivering body, eyes pressed firmly shut.

There was a loud rumbling outside and the little boy jumped with a surprised, frightened shriek.

_'There is nothing outside my window or under my bed,'_ Sherlock tried to reason with himself, the logical part of his brain _knowing_ there was only dust and a tin box of shiny stones down there, _knowing_ monsters were not real and _knowing_ a storm, no matter how vicious, could not actually hurt him. _'It was a nightmare caused by the noise, nothing more.' _

Another window-rattling peal of thunder had him snatching up Farnsworth the stuffed hedgehog and running from the room, little bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. He skittered to a halt in front of Mycroft's door and immediately began hammering his fists against it, shooting panicked glances over his shoulder just in case there _was _something scaly or sharp-toothed chasing him.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" A sleepy Mycroft was always a grumpy Mycroft. Sherlock completely ignored his brother's grumbling and pushed past him and inside the room. He crawled up on the redhead's bed and made himself comfortable between the sheets.

Mycroft shot a quick glance at his baby brother and heaved a heavy sigh. Without a word he stepped into the hall and vanished, only to return a moment later with a sniffling girl on his hip. He knowingly left the door ajar.

"You don't have to be afraid of the thunder, Ellie, it can't hurt you," Sherlock informed his sister as Mycroft set her down on the mattress, looking up at his older sibling with wide and slightly panicked eyes. "Right?"

Mycroft had to hide a smile at that; scared half to death and still Sherlock tried to put on a brave face. "No, everything is going to be just fine," he promised and settled between the two.

Ellie dropped off again almost immediately, curled against Mycroft's side with a thumb between her lips and her head on his shoulder. Sherlock put up a token fight for several minutes, his eyes slowly drifting shut only to be forcefully blinked open again once he noticed his slip or a particularly loud crash came from outside.

The door creaked and Mycroft looked up just in time to see Ford slip inside, yawning and rubbing a tired hand over his face.

"We're way too old to be doing this," he protested even as he slipped under the covers and rearranged Sherlock's little body to sprawl across his chest.

"Mm, absolutely," Mycroft agreed, touching one of his feet to Ford's calf.

* * *

The picture Calvin took of the four of them the next morning was used as blackmail material for nearly five decades.

It was also to most fought-over item when the siblings had to clean out their father's study. In the end, though, they all agreed to have it buried with the man.


End file.
